


This is All Your Fault!

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Rating: NC-17 - Freeform, character: drift, character: red alert, genre: drama, genre: fluff - Freeform, smut: sparks, verse: idw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 03:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> An unexpected, but badly needed vacation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is All Your Fault!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Masqueadrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masqueadrift/gifts).



> **Warnings:** Spark smut  
>  **Notes:** Because Masqueadrift said something, and my brain formed the opening five lines instantly, I showed her, and fic was demanded. =D This is yet more self-indulgent weirdness. They got fluffeh on me. Enjoy!

**Title:** This is All Your Fault!  
 **‘Verse:** IDW  
 **Series:** None  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Pairings:** Drift/Red Alert  
 **Summary:** An unexpected, but badly needed vacation.  
 **Warnings:** Spark smut  
 **Notes:** Because Masqueadrift said something, and my brain formed the opening five lines instantly, I showed her, and fic was demanded. =D This is yet more self-indulgent weirdness. They got fluffeh on me. Enjoy!

 

**This is All Your Fault!**

 

“This is all your fault.”

“How’s that? I’m not the one that refused to tell you all the jump points in case you’re a Decepticon spy.”

“ _Exactly_! You could be a Decepticon spy! All _your_ fault!”

Drift smiled, amused and accepting that this is what he had to deal with. “And what if I’m really not a Decepticon spy?”

“That is _just_ what a Decepticon spy would say!”

Drift shook his helm and stood from the pilot’s chair. “I’m going to see what the damage is.”

“Oh? No distress call?”

Drift turned back. “Last coordinates you let me see placed us on the edge of known Decepticon space. Do you want them to find us? Besides, I got out a subspace alert just before the planet’s gravity snagged us. The Autobots know we’re down. They’ll find us, and we’ll be better off if there’s no constant signal bleating to tell the Decepticons where we are.

“Let’s just assess the damage. Hopefully we’ll be able to repair it, and limp home instead of sitting here waiting for a rescue.” Drift made for the outer hatch again. “You coming, or you gonna stay in here?”

“Ha! As if I’ll let you wander about on your own!”

~

Drift sighed, and leaned back from the shuttle a little. He stared at the damage to the primary thrusters and wondered if he stared long enough that they’d suddenly start to heal. Damn. They were stuck, which was going to throw Red Alert into more of a panic, and Drift got to hang out with that for however long it took the Autobots to find them. Drift hadn’t had time to do more than shoot a quick message off, and he hadn’t known their exact coordinates when they’d been tossed out of FTL.

“Well?” Red Alert demanded.

“We’re stuck.” Drift sighed again and stood.

"We're stuck," Red Alert repeated flatly. Drift braced for it, and watched as Red Alert's face morphed into a narrow-optic glare. " _You_ did this on purpose!"

"I really didn't." Not that Drift believed Red Alert would accept that truth.

Red Alert's helm whipped around, optics searching everywhere, including the empty sky. "Once a Decepticon, always a Decepticon! I should have known better. There were others that could have been sent with me."

"There weren't," Drift said, and leaned back against the shuttle. It was probably best to let Red Alert tire himself out. It wouldn't actually help to deny anything, but _not_ denying would just send Red Alert on one of his 'I don't hear you denying it! It must be true!' rants.

Red Alert snorted. "They just wanted rid of me! Never mind the actual importance of the mission! No! Get crazy Red out of the way so we can frag things up and the Decepticons can win the war!"

Drift shook his helm. "I'm pretty sure none of them want the 'Cons to win. I sure don't."

"You _are_ a Decepticon!"

Drift just glanced down at the Autobot emblem he wore, then back up at Red Alert. That earned him another snort.

Silence followed, and Red Alert crossed his arms and huffed, optics still searching for signs of incoming Decepticons. Drift waited. He knew the Decepticon threat was a real one, but he hadn't caught anything on the radar. With any luck at all, _someone_ in Autobot command knew Red Alert's flight plan and would track them down.

"Ok then," Drift said, and straightened. "We have energon. We have shelter in case this planet cooks up any fun weather. We have weapons in case the Decepticons do come, _but_ ," he hurried to add, seeing Red Alert's optics go wide, "I don't think they will." He headed back toward the ramp. "I'm going to take a nap."

Red Alert sputtered, even took a few steps toward Drift, but Drift ignored him. He settled onto one of the little shuttle's cots, and relaxed as best he could.

Outside, Red Alert was muttering to himself.

~ | ~

Drift launched awake at the sound of an explosion. _Slag! The 'Cons found us after all_ , was his first thought. He had swords drawn and was on his feet before his optics even finished booting up.

The explosion sounded again, followed by a quiet whimper.

Red Alert! Was he injured?

Drift's helm whipped around, and he spotted the Security Director curled up in a corner, hands gripping his helm. "Red Alert?" A whimper was his only reply.

Drift edged toward the shuttle ramp, looking out cautiously. The sky was black with clouds, and the long grasses of the plain they'd landed in were blowing nearly flat in the wind.

A storm. Just a storm.

Thunder crashed over head again, a long, jagged lightning bolt snapping from the clouds to the ground almost instantly. Slag. They were right in the thick of it.

Another booming explosion of thunder, gash of lightning, and then rain poured down. Drift considered them lucky that the wind seemed to be blowing from the other side of the shuttle, but closed the ramp anyway.

Red Alert gasped, and Drift turned toward him. "What's wrong?" he asked, crouching out of arms' reach. A spark snapped between Red Alert's audials, miniature lightning to match the storm outside. That... couldn't be good. “Red Alert?" Drift called again, tone softer. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Too much..." Another pained whimper, and Red Alert's fingers tightened on his helm. He was going to dent himself at this rate.

"Too much what? How do I fix this?"

"Atmospheric..."

Drift arched an optic ridge. “That's gotta suck slag."

Red Alert peered up at Drift with one optic, mouth twisted. "You suck slag." His ire was cut short by another snap of charge.

Drift chewed on his lip, caught between amusement at the words and genuine concern over what injury Red Alert must have. "What can I do?"

"Stop pestering me! Ow!"

Drift tipped his helm, considering. Excess charge, so... grounding? He moved, and sat next to Red Alert, one arm wrapping around his shoulders. There was a barrage of sharp little discharges everywhere they touched, but Drift just gritted his teeth and kept silent. He relaxed as the charge dimmed to a fuzzy hum against his own EM field, and tipped his helm to consider Red Alert. “Better?”

Red Alert slowly uncurled, blinking up at Drift with uncomprehending optics. “Slag. You knocked your head, didn’t you?” Drift reached up to touch, but Red Alert batted his hand away.

“No. Why are you touching me?”

“Stop it. Where’d you hit? I don’t even remember seeing you smack anything.” Drift replayed the crash in his mind. Admittedly, he had been kind of distracted, but he really couldn’t recall any point where Red Alert could have caused this sort of damage. “You got a ground out of place or something? Hey-“

Red Alert gasped as he jerked away from Drift. “What are you _doing_?”

Drift frowned, jaw clenching as a few more electrical discharges zapped him. “Trying to help. Was working too. What the frag?”

Red Alert hissed, gripping his helm again. “I’m not wounded. It’s… It’s a…”

“A glitch?” Drift asked, earning himself another smarmy glare. “What? It is, right?”

“Yes.”

“Seems like a simple grounding issue. Why haven’t you gotten it fixed?”

Drift found himself on the receiving end of a fine example of the phrase ‘if looks could kill’, and arched an optic ridge.

“I hate you so much.”

“Can’t be fixed?” Because if he was going to dig a grave for himself by being unintentionally stupid, it might as well be a deep one.

“No, Drift. It can’t be fixed. Do you think-“ Red Alert cut off with a grunt and a hiss.

Drift shook his helm, but Red Alert had his optics squeezed shut again. He braced for the charge, then reached out again. One good, solid tug, and he had Red Alert back against his side, the charge settling out just a little. “No one ever try this before for you?”

Red Alert shook his helm, body unwinding the tiniest fraction again. “Why are you?”

Drift shrugged. “It helps.”

“This is not going to buy you my trust,” Red Alert warned, helm tipping slowly until it rested against Drift’s.

Drift grinned, tightening his hold in a brief squeeze. “Nothing so cheap as a cuddle, huh?”

“I’m expensive,” Red Alert replied, words slurring as he faded into recharge.

Drift grinned and carefully shifted into a more stable slouch against the shuttle’s bulkhead. Outside the thunder still rumbled menacingly. He could hear the rain pounding against the shuttle. It still sounded like a battle, but Drift had learned to snatch recharge through just about anything.

~ | ~

Drift woke when Red Alert flinched and shoved away from him -or tried to. At some point during the night they’d tipped over sideways, and ended up tangled together on the floor. Red Alert was larger, but Drift was on top and not exactly a lightweight.

"Get off me! Stop touching me! What are you doing?!"

Drift pushed his way free to save himself the dents, and sat up against the wall. He raised an optic ridge, and asked, "Don't you remember last night?" It wasn't meant to be funny, or a joke, but then Red Alert’s optics went pale and wide, his jaw dropping open. It became funny pretty fast as he sputtered.

"I- I- _No_! We didn't! I couldn't have! You- You-"

And it was right back to not being funny. Pits, if he was _that_ repulsive... Drift huffed. "The _storm_ , Red Alert. Do you remember the storm?"

"Oh. Oh, yes. I- Well, that's hardly a valid reason for you to lay on me after it's ended."

Drift gave the mech an incredulous look, then shook his helm. "Are you all right now?"

Red Alert was quiet a moment, face taking on a vaguely distanced expression as he likely ran internal scans. "Yes, and... Thank you." A slight blush of pink heated his face. "I apologize. For my overreaction," he said, words stilted. "I'm not used to coming back online to feel someone touching me."

Drift tipped his helm in acceptance and acknowledgement. He could understand that. He wasn't all that used to waking up with anyone either.

Their day was wonderfully unexciting. That seemed to bother Red Alert, but Drift was content to sit outside the shuttle, sipping his ration slowly, and watching the fluffy clouds blow by. Red Alert bustled around, cleaning things that didn't need cleaned, organizing and reorganizing the storage cupboards. Drift figured it was his way of coping and left him be.

Eventually, Red Alert made his way outside the shuttle, optics searching the sky. He hesitantly walked away from the shuttle, turning to look over it.

"Something wrong?" Drift asked, watching the frown form on Red Alert’s face.

"There's another storm coming." Red Alert’s optics shifted to Drift's then away, his face going a bright pink.

Drift grinned. "I can sit lightning rod duty again. I don't mind."

Red Alert huffed. He crossed his arms, uncrossed his arms, shifted his weight, then finally flounced back into the shuttle.

"I'd consider it a favor though, if we sat against each other _before_ you get all charged. That's not the kind of zapping I'm into," Drift called after him.

Red Alert's upper half leaned out over the ramp. "I really think I hate you."

Drift laughed and stood, following Red Alert into the shuttle, keying the ramp to close as he did. He smirked as he saw him sitting on one of the cots. "And when we fall into recharge?"

"You can fall on the floor. I'll be fine here."

Drift snickered, and took a seat beside Red Alert, lining himself up so all of his right side touched Red Alert’s left. He clasped his hands in his lap and leaned his helm back against the bulkhead. "So."

"Oh, Primus. Idle chatter? Must we?"

Drift faced Red Alert with a frown. "Unless you think a datapad can handle the charge so we could read."

Red Alert sat stiffly, fingers knotting and unknotting in his own lap for a few silent minutes. "I’m really awful at this. I don't do small talk."

"Me either."

Red Alert glanced at him with a snort.

"I don't. Just trying to kill time." Drift shrugged a little, shoulder sliding against Red Alert's. "Going to get pretty boring, and recharge is a ways off. Maybe tomorrow we can run or train. Something. Burn up some energy."

"No. We should conserve our energy. We could be weeks from a rescue, and if the Decepticons do find us, we're going to need all our strength to fight them."

Drift noted the ‘us’ and ‘our’ in Red Alert’s last sentence, and accepted the progress for what it was. He could argue against getting too lax. Sitting still wasn’t any better than running themselves into the ground. Not really. On the flip side of that, however, was that Red Alert _having_ to sit still, _choosing_ to be still and calm, was a far cry better than pacing and cleaning everything that didn’t need cleaned. Drift half-expected him to try polishing the outside of the shuttle.

“Guess you’re right,” Drift said at length. “Minimal movement to conserve energy. _Just_ enough so we don’t get creaky.” He intentionally fingered the pommel of one sword. As anticipated, Red Alert’s optics shot to it.

“There’s a difference between not getting ‘creaky’, and swinging those things around pretending you haven’t exhausted yourself.”

“I don’t pretend,” Drift argued, adding a bit of a sulk to his tone. He wasn’t used to playing these games, but one never really forgot how to manipulate. He probably shouldn’t. This was _Red Alert_ after all, but he really was trying to help. The mech was wound up tight, and this weird electrical glitch of his sure wasn’t helping any.

Red Alert snorted, but one corner of his mouth twitched up the barest bit before he got it under control.

Drift grinned and leaned his helm back again.

Progress.

~ | ~

Little by little, day by day, Red Alert eased up with Drift. Not on their situation, but with Drift personally. The storms continued every evening for a week, regular enough to set a chrono by, so they were forced into close proximity again and again.

It was boring.

Wonderfully so.

Every evening Red Alert would drop offline against Drift’s shoulder, and every morning they’d wake up in a heap on the floor. Red Alert would blush hot pink as energon rushed to his face, and Drift would hide his smile at the blush, and ruthlessly squash the funny twinge of disappointment when he was pushed away.

Their ninth morning dawned the same as the past eight had, but this time Drift opened his optics first. Red Alert’s helm was pillowed on his upper arm, their faces close. He couldn’t crush down the little thrill that made his spark pulse faster quickly enough. He was barely awake himself, having not been pushed back, and something of the open desire must have shown on his face, for when Red Alert’s optics opened, they darkened.

Instinctual reaction to close proximity. Yeah.

Drift pulled away on his own this time. He’d made too much progress with the mech to slag it up now with stupid lust.

And he absolutely imagined the disappointment that flashed across Red Alert’s face.

“Morning,” Drift mumbled, climbing to his feet. He turned to get their rations for something to do, and when he turned back, Red Alert was sitting on the berth, the pink fading from his cheeks.

He accepted the cube with a quiet ‘thank you’, and the day proceeded normally from there.

~

“You look dead.”

Drift cracked open an optic, then looked up at the sky. There were no clouds, so why was Red Alert out so far from the shuttle? He held up an arm as he checked his chrono. “Not grey.” The arm dropped back to the ground.

“I meant your position. You look as though you’ve been beaten and cast there.”

Drift lifted his helm to look down at his body. Shame crept, small and insidiously, into his spark. He was filthy. The grass was long, but the ground wet. His white plating was smudged and smeared with dried mud and grass stains from where he’d simply rolled over from back to front, or front to back. “Not dented.”

Red Alert snorted what might have been a laugh, then carefully lay down next to Drift. “I think the storm might not come. I can’t feel any charge building and the sky looks clear.”

Drift rolled his helm to the side. Red Alert had his fingers laced under his helm, one knee up and swaying idly. “Good. No zapping me or processor aches tonight.”

That earned him a glower. “Don’t be crude.”

“It _is_ a zap. Just because you’re dirty-minded and keep assigning the term to interfacing isn’t my fault.”

Red Alert gasped, and to Drift’s shock, reached out and smacked his arm. “I am _not_ dirty minded!”

Drift hummed, smiling. “If you say so.”

“I do!”

“Ok.”

“Don’t say it like that! You make it sound like you don’t believe me.” Red Alert may have been protesting, but remained relaxed on his back, optics on the bright sky as it changed colors toward sunset.

“Mm.”

A huff. “You are so annoying.”

“If you say so.”

Red Alert growled, but Drift glanced to the side and saw the small grin.

~

“Drift?”

“Mm?” Drift asked, not bothering to wake fully.

“I… can’t recharge.”

“Not surprised. All we do lately.”

“No, I mean…” Red Alert fell silent, and Drift felt himself floating off. It was their first night without a storm bothering Red Alert, and Drift was enjoying the relative comfort of lying on the cot instead of the floor.

Oh. Wait. Red Alert couldn’t recharge. Slag. The storm came late.

Drift roused himself and managed to peel open an optic shutter. “Storm comin’?”

Red Alert was kneeling beside Drift’s cot, fingers knotting in his lap, optics cast down to the side. “No,” he said quietly. “It’s just that- Well, you see-“ He heaved a sigh. “We sort of had a routine, and now it’s been disrupted and I find I can’t settle.”

It took Drift a moment to put the quickly babbled explanation together, but when he did, he had to bite back a grin. “Oh,” he grunted instead, then wriggled toward the bulkhead until his back touched it. He lifted an arm in invitation, and let his optics shut.

“You don’t mind?” Red Alert whispered.

Drift gave another grunt that sounded somewhere in the neighborhood of a ‘no’.

He wavered, having to fight to stay awake while Red Alert thought it over. He finally climbed up onto the berth, and Drift wrapped his arm around his middle. He tucked his fingers between Red Alert’s side and the berth, hoping that’d be enough to keep him from falling off. Drift cycled his vents, ignoring how tense Red Alert lay against him, and snuggled his face close. He could feel the shallow, warm puffs of air from Red Alert on his cheek, and let himself relax.

It was ridiculously comfortable for how squished onto the cot they were. Drift was back in recharge only a moment later.

~ | ~

Drift purred as he woke. Soft lips were pressing is slow, sleepy kisses to his cheek. He was being gently nuzzled, fingertips stroking slowly back and forth along a transformation seam. It was more comforting than arousing, but as he woke more, his systems heated.

It all stalled out as Drift remembered _who_ it was he was sharing the berth with.

Red Alert purred softly. Not awake, Drift thought. He stared at the side of his face, able to see one closed optic. Red Alert had to be recharging still, which only made Drift feel worse for enjoying the contact. He’d like more of it, but that wasn’t likely once Red Alert woke up, and it was wrong to let it continue.

Drift lay there for another long moment.

Yeah. Wrong.

Damn.

He inhaled deeply, freeing his fingers from under Red Alert’s side and flexing the stiffness out of them. A stretch took over, but the light touch didn’t stop. The purr did, but once Drift relaxed, that returned too.

“Red Alert?”

“Mn?”

“Wake up.”

“Am awake.”

That stumped Drift a little. “You’re touching me though.”

“Sharing a cot.”

“You’re purring.”

“Comfortable.”

Drift frowned, confused. “But-“

“Talk too much.”

Drift was about to protest, but that was cut off too.

By Red Alert’s mouth covering his own.

Drift’s spark leapt up in tempo, his vents catching on a quiet gasp. Red Alert’s lips moved softly over his own, the purr returning.

Drift pulled his head back, helm clanking against the bulkhead, optics wide. Red Alert blinked at him, a small frown marring his face. “Uh…”

The frown faded, Red Alert’s optics dimming even as his face took on a light pink cast. “I… misjudged. Didn’t I? I’m really horrible at this. I just thought-“

“Stop.” Red Alert fell silent instantly, gaze dropping away from Drift’s. “It’s not…” He paused, trying to think past the surprise so he wouldn’t ruin what was looking like a lot of slagging trust. “I’m interested. Really interested. Just didn’t think you would be. Ya know. Ever.”

Red Alert glanced back up, face hotter. “I… I wasn’t very fair to you. Was I?”

Drift smiled and dipped his face forward to steal a light kiss. “You’re good at your job.”

Red Alert watched him for a minute, then gave him a shy smile. “Yes then?”

Drift responded by wrapping his arms around Red Alert and twisting until the mech lay on top of him. Red Alert grinned and settled himself comfortably before moving in for another slow, easy kiss. Drift let him lead, enjoying the slow pace as a nice change from his usual encounters. His spark was still slamming around in its casing, but he wasn’t going to rush this.

Each new action was mimicked. Red Alert began caressing Drift’s plating, so he returned he touches. As Red Alert deepened the kiss, Drift dared more passion. When Red Alert’s fingers dipped beneath his plating to stroke over lines and sensor nodes, Drift gasped with the pleasure and set about finding the places that would make Red Alert’s vents hitch.

The first pulse of Red Alert’s spark was almost a surprise. They’d laid there kissing for so long that Drift hadn’t known if they were actually going to interface. That first rush of energy into his own spark shot fire through his lines. Drift’s back bowed off the berth, and he sent his own rolling throb back to Red Alert.

They synchronized easily, sparks igniting in the matched rhythm. Red Alert whimpered and moaned, face tucked into Drift’s neck. Drift held tight, twisting their legs together, trying to pull him even closer. Bliss rocked in waves across his sensornet. Red Alert writhed on top of him, plating rubbing, but the hiss of metal on metal lost under cries growing sharper, more hungry every moment.

Drift broke first. He shouted, fingers digging into Red Alert’s back, neck arching. Ecstasy rode hard through him, making him dizzy, draining him until locked joints released and he fell limp under Red Alert. A moment more and Red Alert slumped over him.

They lay together for a long time, panting until they cooled, Red Alert’s face pressed against the side of Drift’s.

“Missed yours,” Drift said.

“Hm?”

“Overload. Was too busy enjoying mine. Wanted to watch you. Hear you.”

Red Alert shivered, and Drift felt the increase in warmth against his cheek. “I suppose we’ll have to remedy that. Perhaps later?”

Drift nodded, smiling. “If you let me up, I’ll get us some energon.”

“But I’m comfortable.”

~ | ~

The following two weeks were decidedly nicer than the first one. Drift let Red Alert lead, but after a few days began initiating their interfacing as well. It wasn’t like they really had anything better to do.

Days were spent pressing one another to every surface of the shuttle and rolling around in the long grass outside. Nights were spent cuddled close together on a cot not meant for two mechs, but they made it work really well.

The storms did come back, and they accidentally discovered the second evening of them that overloads with Drift playing ‘lightning rod’ took the term ‘mind-blowing’ to a whole new level.

When they woke the following morning, vocalizers staticky from their screams, dazed from being unconscious for so long, and in desperate need of an energon ration, they both quietly wished for another storm later that day.

As had become habit, Drift and Red Alert were lying in the grass, watching the high, fluffy clouds blow by. Drift’s vents were still cycling a little faster than normal, and beside him Red Alert still wore that sated little grin he got from getting Drift to overload first. And loudly.

The peace was broken by a high whine, and they both sat straight up.

“Decepticons!”

Red Alert ran for the shuttle, but Drift stood still, watching the sky and trying to pick the direction the ship was coming from.

Only a moment later a shining spot in the sky appeared. It grew larger, the engine sound becoming more distinct. “Autobots,” Drift called out, relaxing his own defensive stance. He looked back toward the shuttle where Red Alert crouched at the side of the ramp, weapons in hand. “Looks like our rescue’s arrived.” He couldn’t help feeling disappointed. They had enough energon to last at least another couple weeks.

The jump shuttle landed and out walked Jazz, followed by Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. “Hey!” Jazz called, hand lifting, a grin on his face. “Need a lift?”

Drift tipped his helm in acknowledgement, but kept quiet. Red Alert joined him, and they all met in the middle.

“Glad ta see ya both functionin’.”

Red Alert gave Jazz a brief nod. “The crash could have been worse. There are a few things we should salvage from the shuttle, but then we can go.”

Jazz was already shaking his helm. “No can do. We knew where y’all were last week, but couldn’t come get ya.”

Drift tilted his helm, a thread of concern weaving through his spark. He glanced at Red Alert, noticing the tension, then back to the silent twins, their blasters held in a relaxed, but alert way that was far too familiar to Drift. They were watching the sky.

“’Cons were lookin’ for ya too. Lured ‘em off by searching another system, but we need to go. Grab anything crucial, and let’s get off this rock.”

Red Alert sputtered, then turned and sprinted back to the shuttle, words like, “I _knew_ it!” and “Been too lax!” and “So _stupid_!" floating back on the breeze.

Drift sighed, watching as all the peace in Red Alert disappeared. He shook his helm, then went to help with whatever it was Red Alert deemed ‘crucial’.

Damn vacations. They never lasted long enough.

~ | ~

It was a month after their adventure that Red Alert sought Drift out. There was a storm, and lightning and thunder seemed to be attacking the mountain. Drift was surprised when Red Alert knocked, then entered his quarters. Sure, the door had been open, but he hadn’t expected the invitation to be accepted. They’d barely even seen one another since returning. Drift had been disappointed at first, but figured that was life, and had managed to convince himself to be grateful for the time they’d had together. It hadn’t been love anyway, but it had been nice.

Red Alert closed the door, and Drift scooted back on his berth, making room.

“Bigger than the cot,” Red Alert said, voice soft and uncertain.

Drift nodded, and settled in. He could already feel the fuzz of excess charge.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Drift asked, tipping his helm back to look at Red Alert in confusion.

“It’s just… Well, I’m really bad at this.”

“This- what?”

Red Alert’s face heated and his optics dropped. “I suppose I deserve that. And thank you for still being willing to help me with the glitch.”

“What?” Drift was lost. “What are you really bad at?”

“Relationships.”

Drift blinked. He hadn’t even… Wow. “Uh. So am I.” Because he hadn’t realized they’d had one. Not that he was averse to the idea. He liked Red Alert. He was interesting, passionate, surprisingly genuine for as long as they’d all been at war, and Drift really liked getting to see the hidden side of what everyone else assumed was a paranoid glitch jumping at shadows. Drift respected Red Alert’s dedication. It was why he hadn’t pursued anything when they returned. He knew Red Alert didn’t have time, and sure that made his spark ache a little, but they _were_ fighting a war here.

Red Alert huffed a humorless laugh, and snuggled in against Drift. “I just get so busy, and I know I’ve been a complete aft ignoring you as I have.”

“Important stuff.”

“It is, but I could have commed you. We could have had energon or something. I shouldn’t have waited until I needed you.” Red Alert sighed. “I don’t want you to feel just used.”

Drift tightened his hold and purred. “It’s fine. Can just start from here and both make more of an effort.”

Red Alert nodded, fingers curling into transformation seams, tension seeming to drain away. “I’ll probably still mess up.”

Drift chuckled. “I’ll mess up worse.”

“Oh let’s not make that a competition.”

“No,” Drift agreed, still grinning.

“I don’t think we should interface though. I don’t want the whole base hearing us. Maybe tomorrow before our shifts? If the storm’s ended?”

Drift couldn’t seem to get the smile off his face. “That’s fine. And if not then, later.”

Red Alert nodded, and they both fell quiet. Drift tried to relax into recharge, but his spark was busy bouncing around in his chest, so it was a long time coming. That worked out though, because he was able to enjoy the soft sound of Red Alert’s sleepy, content purr.

When he did finally drop off, Drift was still smiling.

~ | ~

**([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) ) ******


End file.
